


Obliviate

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, M/M, Memory Alteration, Mindfuck, Non Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:39:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Voldemort wins the war, the Aurors do things rather differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obliviate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smallbrownfrog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallbrownfrog/gifts).



“Malfoy.” Harry spat out the name as the dark room filled with a flickering, green glow and illuminated the form of Lucius Malfoy, who sat in full Auror uniform opposite Harry. Harry could feel the cuffs around his wrists digging into his flesh as he struggled against them to no avail.

“It’s no use fighting it, Potter – things will be a lot easier for you if you simply accept your fate and cooperate.”

“I will _never_ cooperate.” Harry could hear the rough edge to his own voice and wondered why it was so gravelly. He couldn’t remember much after Narcissa had told Voldemort he was still alive. Harry wondered how long he had been here for. He wondered if Ron and Hermione were still alive somewhere or if all hope had been lost.

“Now, now. You don’t have a lot of choice in the matter.” Lucius smiled at Harry and moved behind him, hauling him up and moving him, so his body stretched face first over the desk.

Harry felt his cheek scratch against the splinters and tried to move, but he found his feet had been bound in a flash of wandless magic and his cuffs attached to the table.

“Let me go!”

“You’re even more entertaining when you beg.” Lucius laughed at Harry as he struggled and Harry could hear the sound of a belt being unbuckled behind him. “The Dark Lord’s little whore. The Boy Who Begged to Die.”

“I will never beg you.” Harry let out a strangled sound and yanked at his hands. “Never!”

“Oh but you do. You beg me all the time. Please, no, stop, it hurts…please let me die – take me instead of her.” Harry felt rough hands pushing up the rags he wore and felt the cool air of the room against his backside. “Do you remember begging for your filthy little Mudblood, Potter?”

“I hate you.” 

“You can’t remember, can you?” Harry heard Lucius laugh as he felt the cheeks of his backside spread apart. “You have been subjected to an awful lot of Cruciatus, not to mention the various Memory Charms. Perhaps you are losing your mind? I would have thought you would at least have remembered your Mudblood screaming your name as she died.”

“She’s alive.” Harry felt fingers working their way into his hole. He knew it wasn’t out of any sort of courtesy – it was simply to prolong his humiliation for as long as possible. Harry trembled and his head was pressed harder onto the desk. The fingers withdrew and something blunt and hard pressed against his hole and he tried to move away, but Lucius had too tight a grip on his hips. 

Harry bit back a scream as Malfoy pushed into him, feeling himself stretched and torn by the intrusion. He felt Malfoy’s hand wrap around his limp cock, bringing him roughly to hardness with a quick, careless movement.

“Think yourself lucky you get this, Potter – most are not as thoughtful as me.” Malfoy’s voice was rough as he grunted above Harry. 

Harry could feel the metal of the zip from Malfoy’s trousers as it hit against his flesh and he focused on that, rather than the burning intrusion from Malfoy’s cock. He hated himself as he felt himself harden under Malfoy’s ministrations, the hand wrapped around him twisting and quickening, pulling his orgasm from him.

When Harry came he stayed silent, because there was no pleasure to be had in this forced completion. He kept his cheek pressed to the desk until he felt wet warmth fill him, the humiliation of the damp come and blood dripping down his thigh as Malfoy withdrew, making his eyes fill with tears as he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.

Whatever they did to him he would _never_ cry.

“I wanted to get information from you, Potter.” Malfoy released the bindings on Harry’s legs and wrists and gripped his hair as he flung him to the floor. “But it seems a good fucking isn’t enough to get you to speak. Besides, I am not sure you can remember anything I want to hear.”

“Bastard.” Harry looked at Malfoy from his position on the floor and noticed his hands and legs were filthy.

How long had it been?

“Every time I take you, you always think you’re a virgin.” Malfoy laughed and used his cane to tip Harry’s chin up so their eyes met. “Do you have any idea how many times you have been fucked? Do you know what you have done to yourself under _Imperius_ , you filthy little cunt?” 

“Get away from me.” Harry yanked his head away from the stick as he felt his cheeks flame and he tried to still his hands which had started to tremble. “Fuck you.”

“Oh I don’t think so, Potter.” Malfoy smiled and Harry felt the pain his head sear as Malfoy looked to the door, his eyes gleaming. “I do believe the Dark Lord is coming.”

As Harry tried to move away, the pain in his head left him blind. He fell to the floor and everything around him went black.

~ 

“Potter.”

Harry opened his eyes against the bright, white light which flickered and buzzed. His mind felt heavy with the pills they had given him after something. The pills they had given him after something he couldn’t remember. 

“Doctor?” Harry looked up into blue eyes and blinked against the light.

“You’ve been sleeping.” The doctor was tall and slim with long blonde hair. Harry thought he didn’t look much like a doctor, with his dark robes, but then Harry wasn’t entirely sure his mind was working properly in any event. The doctor gave Harry a reassuring smile and smoothed his hair back from his forehead, in an oddly familiar gesture. Harry felt his head burn with a searing pain and he hissed, closing his eyes tightly and fighting back the wave of nausea which threatened to overcome him.

“My head hurts.”

“Yes. That is to be expected.” The doctor leaned close and spoke quietly in his ear. “One of my…colleagues…wishes to speak with you about that.”

“Oh…good.” Harry felt slow and sluggish, his mouth was thick and his voice raspy almost as if he had been crying out. He rubbed his forehead and wished he could just _remember_. “Are they here, then?”

“They are just on their way.” The doctor stood and turned the light a little away from Harry to afford him some respite, as the pain in his head dulled.

“Where am I?” Harry struggled to sit up. 

“You’re safe.” The doctor laughed as he said it and tipped Harry’s head back, moving his fingers over Harry’s forehead to brush back his hair. “They really did a number on you, didn’t they, pet?”

“Who? What are you talking about?” Harry flinched away from the doctor because the touch reminded him of something. 

Something else he couldn’t fully recall. 

Something bad.

“Why don’t you rest?” The doctor’s voice was low and soothing and Harry nodded. He curled up under the sheets and noticed a foul smell in the room, of rotten bedding and dank mould. He shivered and closed his eyes as he remembered the strangest of things. He remembered thick, warm sheets in red and gold satin and pyjamas with odd little gold balls on them which fluttered over the material.

He would imagine he was wearing those for now, thinking of the soft flannel against his skin and feeling instantly comforted. “My head hurts.”

“I know it does.” A woman’s voice this time, smooth and reassuring. Harry felt a glass of water pressed to his lips, which he drank from eagerly as he felt the room spin around him.

“Can you help me?”

“Of course.” The woman whispered into Harry’s ear and he could hear the smile in her voice. “When I’m finished, you won’t feel a thing anymore.”

“Will it hurt?” Harry clutched onto his glass of water and thought of the soft pyjamas and warm room in a place which felt like it had only existed several dreams ago. 

“Undoubtedly.”

_~Fin~_


End file.
